


Understanding Rain

by misscam



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-07
Updated: 2006-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscam/pseuds/misscam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is raining when he kisses her, and she thinks she understands. [Ten/Rose]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the 2005 season. Set sometime after "The Christmas Invasion".

Understanding Rain  
by misscam

II

 _here comes the rain again,  
falling from the stars;  
drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are._  
\- When September Ends - Green Day

II

It is raining when he kisses her, and she thinks she understands.

A cold autumn night in London, walking back to the TARDIS from her mum's. Another passing by to see the changes, another goodbye before moving on. She is used to them now, she thinks. She's used to him too, jokes and charms and meals with her mother, smiling all the while. She's so used to him that in a split second, she forgets he was different before.

"She makes such a fuss always. Must be easier when there's nothing to leave behind," she says, and her brain screams at her even as she says it.

"Don't tell your mother that," he says, his face still, and she can feel the pain in the silence of emotions, almost as if he feels nothing because feeling anything at all would crumble him. That hasn't changed at all.

"Doctor..."

"I'm serious," he replies, smiling now, the coat flapping slightly as a wind moves through them. "She slaps like a champion. In fact, I think she'd give Gnukgner the Slapper a run for his-her money."

"His-her?" she asks before she can stop herself.

"Gnukgner is a female on Wednesdays and Saturdays. For tax reasons. You ask me, I think he-she just likes it and taxes are a convenient excuse..." he goes on, as if she hasn't said anything insensitive and stupid at all, as if she didn't tastelessly hint that his planet being gone might be good thing. And instead of feeling relieved, she just feels angry.

"Doctor!"

He turns, the wind catching his hair and his gaze catching hers. She can feel the first drops of water fall against her hair and she vaguely wonders if a storm is coming.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly.

"I know," he replies, taking a step towards her, voice eager and reassuring. For his own benefit or hers, she doesn't know. "Mind you, I never had quite something like your mother, though the High Council gave it a good shot."

"High Council?"

"Of Gallifrey."

She nods, noting the softness of his voice and the steel in his brown eyes, ever the study in contrasts. Human clothes, alien hearts, London accent, Time Lord knowledge, childish enthusiasm and ancient bones.

"Does it hurt?"

"Everything does," he says solemnly, "and nothing does. Do you understand, Rose Tyler?"

"No," she admits, and he dips his head down and grins at her.

"Good. Me neither. Mystery of the Universe. Probably unleashing some hereto unknown terror at all life if we were ever to find out."

"So, we're definitely trying to, then?" she asks cheekily, half poking her tongue out at him and tasting rain.

"Yes," he says abruptly, and dips his head down even further and kisses her.

She's caught off guard and almost trips backwards, but he steadies her with an arm around her waist and a hand against the back of her neck. The kiss is much more hesitant, a lingering touch of lips and his nose rubbing against hers.

"Doctor," she whispers, and he withdraws sharply, looking surprised. Maybe he too sometimes forgets the differences, she thinks. Surprise turns to guilt, and he stuffs his hands in his pockets, water clinging to his hair.

"I know," she says before he can speak. He's not quite ready yet, a part of her that feels old and wise surmises. Neither is she, the rest of her agrees. There's no rush. He's hers. Dark and possessive as the thought is, it never goes away. He is hers.

Almost as if he knows what she's thinking, he smiles a little sadly, and takes her hand. They walk on, and the rain falls on, changing the ground as it comes.

Clouds turn to rain, she thinks, and pain turns to scars. Scars fade. Time moves, present forever chasing future. Everything hurts, and nothing hurts. Nothing stays the same, always becoming.

She thinks she understands.

He knows she doesn't.

FIN


End file.
